Sira, Sira, Battered and Blue
by HeriticalLovers
Summary: This is Sira's story, about the rise and fall of the Rule of Four Sisters, the end of the world, how her sisters started it, and how she tries to stop it. A 3 or 4 part story.


**Sira, Sira, Battered and Blue**

* * *

_When life gives you lemons, you usually make lemonade out of them. But sometimes that's not possible to do. Sometimes, life forces you to eat those lemons and pucker up like a dried tomato. Sometimes people even have to relive those lemons over and over and over. You get what I'm trying to say, right? _

_My name is Sira. Nice to meet you reader. I will not trouble you with my whole life story, only what is important for you to know, read, and heed. For my life is a warning. A warning that those lemons will only get more sour as life goes on in Tirana. A warning that someday, I will fall to death, as every mortal must, for yes, even a demon such as I cannot live forever. And when I die, the rule of the Four Sisters will be over and chaos will ensue. It is already brewing under my very nose, for I am the last._

_Reader, I beg of you to heed all the signs I show you. Please, fear for your life. For the chasm of Twelve Gods shall soon open and Our true identity will be released to wreak vengeance on the World._

_Sincerely,_

Sira Prourune

* * *

My life was a spoiled one, living in a castle shared with my Father and three sisters. They cared for me, made sure that I had everything that I needed or could ever want, and I was happy. They kept tales of my mother away from me, and what her prophecy had been. I was always so sarcastic to them, and I loved teasing them when they had crushes and that sort. But they never did that to me, they took my harsh words bravely and if they cried, I never knew. 

I remember each of their naming days, and of course their names. Layla Lenexa, Luna Meneksha, Rashka Revelna, and I, Sira Prourune. It was on Layla's naming day that Rashka, the troublemaker, gothic prankster, told me the prophecy.

"Sira dear, would you like to hear about our mother?" Her words enticed me to her dark room, the only room close to being as dark as the rotting dungeons. I sat down on her bed with its black bedcovers and black canopy. I didn't fit in with that world, as we called her room. I was extremely pale, with white hair and orange eyes. I was wearing a white dress that day too. She was fifteen, I was twelve.

Rashka settled down in her black plush chair. She seemed to drift off, a smile wavering on her face, a rare sight. "She was beautiful, looked nothing like us four sisters. Her black hair went down to her waist, like Luna's, although Luna's is straight. Her hair was beautiful and curly- no, not like cousin Remina's frizzy orange hair. Mother's hair wasn't frizzy at all," Rashka paused to take a breathe, that dreamy look on her face. Suddenly I wished that my hair was black.

"She had these deep blue eyes- almost like Layla's, that always seemed to be smiling and laughing. Her voice was so beautiful, she could sing like a lark, we got that trait from her. She hardly ever wore black, except for at funerals." Rashka sighed again, and sunk deeper into the chair, lost in memories. I looked over her, her with her black outfit and black shoes, and black paint on her nails. Then I thought of funerals. Rashka wasn't gothic, she was mourning, and none of us had ever understood that before.

As if feeling the knowing I now had of her, my sister snapped up. "Before she died, when she had you, she gave us a message from the gods. It was terrifying and cruel, because we now had our destiny made by the gods, a fate that we can never change now Sira. A cruel fate." She paused again and I leaned foreword, eager to hear her tale. She stared at me. "This is no fairytale little sister, this is fact, and it is not meant for mortal's to know their fate, but we do." I nodded my head and shifted, trying to look solemn.

She sighed, knowing that I was fidgety and would never settle unless she continued. "The four daughters of light and dark are powerful alone, but unstoppable together. They are those who will take upon themselves the names of the gods and split your country into four separate parts to rule equally. They are those who will be vessels to the gods. In a war when one is 2,300, two will die and their corpses buried in glass, never to dust return. The others will continue to rule until one is 6,700, when one will die in a fight for her sister, the other will continue the Rule of the Four Sisters.

"Finally, when the last one dies, buried beside her sisters in diamonds, they will be together again, more powerful then when alive. They will open the chasm of Twelve gods and then, they will revolutionize the world." I shivered. The prophecy said that we would live for thousands of years, we were demons. The prophecy had been burned into my mind, writhing like a tortured snake. We were going to die, and we knew when. But who was the one that would tell us when the first two would die? Who would be the one that was saved by the other? Why us?

Rashka voiced my question. "Why us?" I shrugged slowly. "I just hope that it is either you or me that turns 2,600 before any of us die, so that if it is the older ones, we get to spend a lot of time with them, or if it is us… that we have lived a full life." She nodded. "I wish that we could prolong this… fate of ours. For we shall be the harbringers of our world."

Twenty years passed and our father fell ill. The whole week was spent trying to get him to eat and trying new medications, even giving him some of our blood. He died the next day.

Layla quietly threw out all of her white clothes and donned black, now matching Rashka and Luna, who were daughters of Darkness. Luna only wore dark colors though. I was the only one of the daughters of Light that still wore white.

Layla, the eldest, now 40 and as pretty as sixteen, split the kingdom into four equal parts, everyone temporarily forgetting about the prophecy. "It is what father would have wanted," Luna, the second eldest, now 38, agreed tearfully. Rashka, now 35, wiped the tears from her golden eyes and I shook my head unnoticeably. It was not what he would have wanted, for us to die. I was now 32. We ruled peacefully for many years, laughing as our people laughed, visiting each other often.

Nobody really minded that we had been ruling for a thousand years now, for everything was bountiful, the taxes were low, and there were never any wars. I usually sat in my white castle in the highest tower, looking far away to the south, where, if I squinted, I could see Rashka's castle.

I would alternate days, some days squinting at Rashka's castle to be rewarded with a small figure in black with fuchsia hair waving at me, and I would wave back. (Demon's have very good eyesight, we had much better, being gods' vessels.)

Some days I would look north to Luna's castle, to catch a glimpse of her black hair and cat ears, and her beautifully fitting native clothes. She would smile and wave at me, and I would wave vigorously back.

And some days, I dared myself to look at Layla's castle, the castle that we were all born in and split up in, and I would see her in her tower, leaning against the window frame, staring into the distance, her cat ears twitching and her blonde hair blowing in the wind. I would wave at her, and her whole face would light up and she would wave back, and then I knew everything was alright.

It was many days later, on Layla and Luna's birthday, (For they had the same birthday, two years apart.) that we visited each other again. Layla was now 1,o40, and Luna was now 1,038. It was the anniversary of when we split the kingdoms up.

We chatted happily and enjoyed the birthday celebration, as the people declared our rule, The Rule of the Four Sisters. Layla stopped one of the people, and sadly asked them; "What if three of us die?" "Why," the villager replied, "The Rule of the Four Sisters will continue as long as there is still one of them holding the throne." That was when Luna informed us that the people of the country Marino were threatening our country, but that Layla and herself had signed a peace treaty with them. All of the three believed that the conflict was solved and that the threat of war was gone, and that our fate was now changed, leaving me to think otherwise.

Many years later, we were joined again in a known visit for Layla's 2,600th birthday, and Luna's 2,598th. Rashka was now 2,594, and I was now 2,595. There was no war going on, and so they believed that we were saved from our fate, but they were skeptic.

On Luna's 2,600th birthday, there was still peace, and all three of them were overjoyed and celebrated, especially when Rashka turned 2,600. So I was now 2,597. Layla was 2,605, Luna was 2,603. They laughed and celebrated while I brooded. They teased me lightly. "Dear Sira, our youngest sister, do not fret! We are saved from our fate, celebrate with us!" I faked a smile, and the next day, Marino declared war.

Layla, Rashka, and Luna were horrified, they now knew what I knew; that fate had not passed over us. But they still had some hope, I was only 2,597, there were still three years for the war to end. They fought gallantly, and we were beating them back. I was now 2,599, and the war had not ended.

All of us began to panic as the days grew closer and closer to my birthday, and I wept every night. I was to be the one that foretold all of our deaths, it was a hard burden to carry.

We counted down the days to my birthday, huddled together inside one room, wanting to prolong it, or at least be together when it happened.

10 days

9 days

8 days

7 days

6 days

5 days

4 days

3 days

We started panicking even more and huddled closer. We wanted the war to end, for all of this to be over.

2 days

1 day

…

2,600-years-old. We were called out into the battle fray, wondering which one of us was to die, wishing that we could have stayed in that room, huddled together, whispering reassurance to one another. "Don't worry Sira, I won't leave you." Rashka. "I cannot leave any of you, so worrying is pointless, I love you all, don't worry Sira." Luna. "It will all turn out alright sisters, don't look so glum Sira." Layla. "I am truly sorry sisters, I want to never have this happen, I worry Rashka, Layla, Luna." Me.

We fought valiantly. Layla was struggling with a strong looking fighter, who wasn't trying his all- he didn't want to kill a women. Layla fell back as the man threw her away, then he readied to make the final blow. Rashka and I looked over in horror, then looked at each other. We were too far away. Luna crashed through the fray, normally so peaceful, her eyes were dark and glowing like coals, her fangs were bared as she let out these animal noises, her hair stained with blood. She thrust her sword in the man's back, turned it, and cut his heart in half.

He fell over, shock in his eyes, and Layla coldly pushed him off. I saw it in slow motion and screamed, rushing as fast as I could towards Luna, I could feel Rashka beside me. Luna spat, then looked up sharply as I screamed and saw us rushing towards her. Her eyes welled up with tears as she knew that it was she, she who would die first. Then, she smiled sadly and put her arms out to as, as if she could grab us close and hold on to us forever, as if we were just returning from a long trip. Then, the large man stuck his sword through her stomach and began slowly pulling it upwards.

Layla let out a loud howl, a sound that I will never forget, a sound that raised the hair on the back of my neck. She launched herself at the man and started rapidly slashing at him, his face was unrecognizable when he fell backwards, tearing the sword out of Luna. I reached our fallen sister first and caught her as she fell. She was still smiling, even with the blood dripping on my clothes and dribbling from her mouth. "You were right to be worried Sira, I am sorry, I am so truly sorry." She looked around at the rest of them, and laughed slightly. "I am the start of… the legend…" Her eyes closed , and I wiped the blood off of her smiling face.

Layla stood with Rashka, her eyes wide and unseeing as she stared down at Luna, Rashka's eyes looked dull as tears flowed from them. I sat, cradling my older sister's head in my arms, my tears dripping down silently from my eyes as I stared at her face fondly, and for the last time.

There we were, once four, now three. Soon to be two.

* * *

Wow, that was so sad and hard to write. cries It was based on these four pictures I found on the internet, and my friend's loved them. So we started writing a story using them, one which is totally different then this one that I wrote. So, while writing it, we gave them our personalities and branched off, each of us having them do what we would do. 

I am Luna, Sarah Jane is Sira, and Meghan is Rashka. All of us write for Layla. So yes, this is written totally different from the stories about them, which I will be posting, and I wrote this one so personally, because

I am killing off all the characters

I was originally Sira.

Anyway, this is a three-part story, so don't think it's over yet! Also, I'm kind of making this a cross over story at the end, because I want people to read it.

Anyway, review and…

Ja Ne!


End file.
